Category Archives: poetry

by

In a Funk

Today is a melancholy day
Last night ‘lack of confidence’ arrived
along with her companion ‘cynicism’
followed closely by ‘sadness’ and ‘depression’
It’s a crowd
my soul balks at their presence

Rose colored glasses were trampled in haste
as these visitors clambered to enter my day
before my eyes were fully awake

An opaque shroud of blurred vision
with a fearful tinge of imagined obstacles
was left behind
the ‘Bogey man’ under the bed
who rode in on the coattails of these intruders

Misty grey skies
echo my somber mood

I have invited rest
to keep me company
as I hope sleep will escort
these uninvited callers elsewhere
while my eyes are closed

by

Raindrops

raindrops

Raindrops fall gently
nourishing thirsty earth
life giving water

Swollen rivers flow
swiftly through the neighborhood
alarming the people

This precious liquid,
necessary renewal,
no longer admired

Destruction disguised
a benign interloper
warily watched

Nature’s fury shows
humans cannot outwit drops
steadily falling

Life giving water
becomes the reapers hand
exacting its due

Circle of life come
full as we watch lustrous pearls
of rain gently fall

by

Napkin Writer

Words gush to the surface
like bubbles in a poured glass of Prosecco
rapidly fill a glass
then settle, continuing to gurgle, roil and fizz
These words are unsettled
want to be expressed
need to be released
before disappearing into oblivion
unable to be recalled
simply gone

Like pop rocks on the tongue
producing an explosion of flavours and sound
that quickly disappear
these words are a flash
of concepts and impressions
in danger of dispersing
without being understood

Furtively I look for a vessel
for these tumbling thoughts
no paper to be found
a large white dinner napkin
becomes the carafe

This unlikely flagon
now absorbs and holds the ink of a pen
breathes words unspoken
Meant to be crumpled and disposed
for a moment this simple means
designed to wipe away excess or spillage
becomes a keeper of words
thoughts made conscious
Alive on soft white cotton

by

A Glance

spark

(image from http://www.kimballibrary.com)

I see him
a glance
racing heart, sweaty palms
Do you think he feels the same?

Rapid pulse,
garbled words, come on tongue speak!
Timid smile
blue eyes twinkle
my knees go weak

Kind, gentle
thoughtful, intelligent
Fluttering heart, the spark of desire
Do you think he feels the same?

Soft, warm
tender touch
melting will, ache to be one
dream to be friends forever
Do you think he feels the same?

by

Sniper

The joy of meeting
after an extended time apart
quickly turned to discomfort
as words pierced the air between them
landing precisely between insecurity and self doubt.
Comments made casually,
“by the way…but he really didn’t mean it”
were released with the skill
of a camouflaged sniper
patiently waiting to strike his mark.
An awkward pause ensued
before the two went their separate ways.
The sniper content that all was as it should be,
the receiver struck with recriminating thoughts.

by

Access Denied

locked door

(image from flickr.com)

The door is locked
and you won’t share the key

Sometimes I catch you in there
when you think I won’t notice

like the Garden of Eden
fruit of all trees can be eaten
except one

I have access to all rooms
except one

I don’t desire knowledge
for I know what’s in there

Neatly packaged bundles of memory
wrapped with the bonds of time

some bursting their ties
swollen with retelling

others tattered around the edges
faded and worn

I want to throw the door open
dust away cobwebs

let in the light of day
cut the bonds of these tightly held packages
loose the memories

releasing
like a boat being untied from its mooring
ready to accept a new adventure

but the door remains locked
and you won’t share the key

by

My Visit to Dordrecht, Netherlands

Brug naar de Tijd, Grote Kerk met Zwijndrechtse brug, Dordrecht,
(photo by Frank Peters)

Colorful echoes of the past
collide with bright visions of the future
Slow steady rain drenches ambition and desire
Need for heat and warmth
propels feet forward
Wetness seeps into fabric, into pores
permeates a moment that has been experienced
by many before
Standing below historical buildings with
their antique facades
Now
seems to be the only thing that matters
yet Now was thought to be
equally important one thousand years ago
Determined explorers, rowdy sailors, sly traders, clever merchants
All who passed this way
share Now
it has come and gone and come again
as colorful echoes of the past
collide with bright visions of the future

by

Gate Keepers

Pieter_Janszoon_Saenredam_Interior_of_the_Church_of_St_Bavo_in_Haarlem

(Image by Pieter Janszoon Saenredam)

The gatekeepers raise their sleepy heads
They have been dormant a long while
Many years have passed since anyone has crossed the threshold
Their curiosity is more intense than any fear that the visitors
may cause harm

The sentinels observe silently from the shadows
Maintaining their invisibility
They want to take in all they can before their presence is made known
Perhaps they will choose to remain in the shadows
A silent whisper in the corner
Or a large drop dripping off a soaring column

The visitors drop their voices to a hush as they enter the vaulted chamber
They cannot see any sign of life
The gatekeepers are well hidden
Still the transients sense another energy surrounds them
A flicker of the torch
A coolness across the cheek

Walls are looked at with awe
Painted fresco moves and dances in the firelight of the torch
Brought to life briefly with the illumination
Carved sculptures flow smoothly as light and eyes pass over them

The gatekeepers are content to allow the visitors to wander
They are moving with care and respect
Stepping carefully, touching softly
Whispering prayers of thanksgiving and homage
To deities of their own

As they retreat the gatekeepers scan the grotto and see
All is as it should be
Content that all is in order
They allow their heads to droop and close their sleepy eyes

(Inspired after visiting Oude Kerk Amsterdam circa 1605)